Lux Tenebris et Amor
by WolfeD
Summary: Darkness.It's what envelopes you constantly.It stalks you as the sun sets,it's the reason why things go bump in the night.Darkness will always be there,taunting you.SLASH.
1. Prologue:

Darkness. It's what envelopes you constantly. It stalks you as the sun sets, it's the reason why things go bump in the night. Darkness will always be there, taunting you. Waiting for the right moment to strike. It is your worst nightmare. Well, at least for me, but I won't dwell on that too much. There are still too many things to tell.

Alas, where there is darkness, there is light. Or so they say. This, however, is a complete lie.

I am currently standing in darkness. Clutching at me from every side. I can't see anything, I can't hear anything. Just pitch darkness, mocking me. The air, if you can call it that, is so thick it is suffocating me. My skin is burning, like it's on fire. I can feel sweat begin to form and slide down. I can't stand it. I feel dirty, and gross. My skin is heavily increasing in heat, and I feel myself start to pant. My mouth is so dry, I need water. I need to get out of here, yet here I am. I haven't moved for what seems like ages. My body feels extremely heavy when I will it to move. After a while I give up and just let myself slump down. I'm drowning, well, suffocating to be correct. Hah, I suppose right now is not the time to be a smart ass, but I can't help it, even if I am dying. Now that I think about it, I wonder if this it how it feels to die. Maybe I did die. Perhaps I am dead, and this. . .is Hell. I'm pretty fucking sure this is not Heaven. I wouldn't be suffering if it was.

I knew something bad was going to happen. I kept having these bad premonitions, that something horrid was going to occur. It would irk me constantly. Every morning, I would wake up, a scream caught in the back of my throat. Vile, acidic liquid, threatening to crawl up my esophagus. I would dive into my bathroom and empty out my stomach. The foul taste and smell would linger and I'd find myself brushing my teeth furiously. After those few moments in the morning, everything would go back to my mundane routine. I would get ready for school, wake my little brother up, and help my mom with breakfast. Everything would be fine until I stepped out of the house. My body would tense and the hairs on my body would stick up. A heavy feeling would soon become the wind. That dreaded feeling of being watched would follow soon. Once in a while, I would ask my little brother if he felt that. He would always give me a puzzled look then ask, " Feel what?"

I wouldn't bother elaborating further and just shake my head at him and mutter a quick never mind. Quickening my pace soon afterwards. I would drop my brother off into his fancy private school, he is the next kid prodigy, you know. Crows would soon start to surround me, landing on top of the school, trees and other shit. Their stare would follow my every move. They just sat there. . .watching me with their penetrating eyes. Something about them was so wrong. All I could see is pure malice and destruction in them. I would find myself running towards the bus stop. Where my friends would always meet, only we didn't take the bus anymore. Stan would usually drive up and take us to school in his crappy little Honda Civic. Those days would drag on. I would go on with my school life, walking class to class, taking notes, and eating lunch with my friends. The feeling never left, though. I would constantly sit there, dwelling in my own paranoia. I'd tell myself, so this is what it was like to be Tweek. Without the constant twitching and addiction to coffee; I was basically his second persona. This all went on, day after day.

School would eventually come to a long awaited end, but then again, after school wasn't better at all. It was far worse than the morning.

I would hitch a ride with Stan or Christophe, if Stan had to go with Wendy. When it was Stan who would do the pleasure of dropping all three of us home, I would dread that they would ask me to hang out with them. Not that I didn't want to but with what was happening, I couldn't say yes out of fear. Coming up with some bullshit excuse, I would deny any invitation thrown at me. I tired soon, and ended up telling them that I was grounded for failing a Chemistry quiz; bringing two weeks of lame excuses to a hiatus. Not that it did me any good. The sun had to come down eventually, and it never failed to, naturally. Unfortunately, that's when the real nightmare would start.

Leaving every light on possible in my house, I would pace back and forward. Walking from my room, to the kitchen, living room, bathroom; you get the gist. Trying my best to stay away from dark corners. I would look through the corner of my eyes where the shadows would dance. Then quickly disparate when I would glance over them. They were shadowy little creatures, usually, you could see where their eyes would be. They would mumble something incoherent with a chant-like tone. Crazy little things, yet somehow, they seemed familiar. I recognized them, maybe a movie or a show? I'm not sure. It was crazy talk, that is what I repeated to myself. After a while, I started to crave the company and comfort of somebody. Eventually, I'd find myself waiting for my little brother to arrive home from Cram School. Poor kid, hasn't had an opportunity at childhood. Blame my parents. My childhood was obviously filled with badass adventures but Ike only came on some, not too many. Basically, I spent my time at home helping Ike with his homework. Sometimes we would just relax in his room and talk the night away. He kept me distracted, I was grateful for that. I know this seems complete absurd to say but, I was kind of glad this scare was happening. It drove me to Ike, making our bond grow immensely. That is the only good that has come from this, un-fucking-fortunately.

At first, I thought I was crazy. That perhaps I had snapped, and gone completely and utterly mad. What other reason could there be for this. . .surreal ordeal? I was convinced that I had lost it, and I came to terms with that. In hopes to be rescued and placed in an Insane Asylum, away from this living nightmare. That was until one day. This particular day, the day that leads me to where I currently am. That day was where the sirens went haywire and I should have listened to him. One of my best friends. . .he warned me of an upcoming tragedy that involved me. Kenny was right.

After a while, I started noticing some changes in South Park itself. Everything was dark. I mean, it looked as if though the town was tinted. The sky wasn't blue anymore, it was a grayish and pink color. The snow would fall during night, almost never at times. It was. . .peculiar to say the least. Not only that, but it was affecting the people in South Park. Everyone was crabby, and gloomy. Our faces weren't as colorful, more sickly pale. Sometimes, I would hear screaming at sun down. That was the only thing other's could hear too. We would jump onto the News just to see if some type of crime was being committed. Apparently, there were. Cows were being slaughtered. Birds were found dead everywhere; in the middle of the street. Pets, decapitated and their blood smeared onto walls. Constant missing person reports would be shown. Crimes had increased significantly. South Park had gone rogue.

It had been a month or so, since the paranoia had begun. I went about in my life as if nothing had changed. Except that day Kenny kept following me around. I didn't think it was much of a big deal, since he's once of my best friends. Until I found myself being shoved into a bathroom stall after excusing myself from the cafeteria. I was lunged on top of toilet, immediately pushing myself up in disgust from coming in contact with it. Turning, I saw Kenny locking the stall's door.

"What the fuck, Ke-?" I began, only to be shut by Kenny's hand covering my mouth.

"Shh, keep it down, Kyle," he whispered hastily. I nodded, and he let me go. We had stood there in silence, staring at each other. I wasn't sure what he wanted, and frankly, he wasn't explaining it.

"Ken," it was above a whisper.

"Shh," he hushed me, one finger pressing against my lips. "Listen, and listen well, Kyle. Some crazy shit is going down here. I'm not too sure what it is but I know it has to do with you, dude. Something is out there! And. . .and it has its sight set on you, man. You have to get out of here, leave South Park, Kyle."

"Wait, what?" I looked at him incredulously.

"Haven't you noticed the changes?" he huffed. I nodded and that was when I shut up and watched him in wide eyes, hoping he would continue. "Like I said, some crazy and sick shit is going on in this godforsaken town. I see the shadows in every dark corner, I hear them whispering, they. . .whisper your name, Kyle."

I remember everything sinking in then. What little I understood, I knew I had to get out of there. Kenny tried to help. He walked with me home, since Stan couldn't give us a lift and Christophe had left to some unknown place. We weren't even halfway to my house when some crows started stalking us. To say I was freaked out, would be an understatement. I was shitting bricks, terrified. I had even jumped a little when Kenny grabbed my hand and pulled me into a run. We could hear their cawing become more animalistic and berserk. My heart could have jumped out of my chest by then. The sun had started setting much faster, it had only been three fucking p.m. It was preposterous! By the time we ran into my house, the sky was glazed with a pink-red color. No one was home, and all the lights were off. Kenny and I ran into every room, switching on all the lights. We could hear our panting and had made our way to my room. I remember dumping my backpack out and shoving in clothes frantically. Kenny had looked around and found a black duffel bag doing the same. I grabbed my much earned and saved up cash out of my desk drawer, shoving it all into a bag along with my laptop. When we had finished, and stepped out, the sight that had greeted us. . .is something I'll never forget. Even the thought of it as I am standing in the epitome of darkness, makes me shiver and shake in fear.

I had let out a shaky breath. The sky was completely black seldom to some bloody red patches. There was no snow. Looking over the town, almost every building was burning down. South Park was in complete chaos. The fire started to dance its way onto the pavement, onto people. . .people. Oh God. I remember those shadowy creatures. They. .they were fucking tearing into bodies of the town folk. Their organs thrown on the floor while they devoured their flesh. I think I had seen Mr. Stotch being pulled out of his car, only to be mauled by a few of those things. The foul stench of rotting flesh and fire filled my nostrils. Vile threatened to make its way back up. I coughed up a bit of it, then spat it out. A hand that clasped my shoulder had made me jump and scream. Looking over, I remembered I was with Kenny. He looked at me his mouth moving but nothing coming out.

"What?" I asked him, my confusion evident. His mouth had begun to move, and that was when I noticed I couldn't hear a thing. I had glanced over to the sight in front of us, no screams were heard. "Holy shit! Kenny, I think I'm deaf!" I cried out. Tears at the corner of my eyes. "I-"

Interrupted by Kenny starting to pull me along with him. We ran into Mr. Stotch's car, he had left the keys in the ignition. Shoving my bags into the car. Kenny frantically started driving away, towards the towns exit. Only, I stopped us. I really wish I would have let Kenny keep going. Regrets, regrets, regrets.

"Wa-Wait Kenny! We can't leave Stan and Cartman!" I shrieked. He looked me over, his mouth moving. He must have remembered what I told him earlier because he picked up his fist and punched the steering wheel. He pulled out his phone and dialed Stan and Cartman. It must have been in vain because he flung his phone out the window furiously. I hit my face against the passenger window when Kenny made an outrageous u-turn. "Fuck. ."

I never knew what a good driver Kenny was until then. He had succeeded in dodging any obstacles in our way. Thank God, I thought. We pulled up in front of Stan's house, quickly running inside. We had checked in every room but no one was home. That was when I started sobbing, hysterically may I add. My best friend wasn't here, he might have died. .and the thought made me insane. I couldn't stand the mere thought of losing my Super Best Friend, not now, and not ever. I'm still wondering if he's alive. . .if I'm alive.

Kenny's arm was swung onto my shoulders in a slight hug as we began to walk back to the car. We were walking out when something shiny glinted towards us. Immediately my eyes closed, waiting for impact. Nothing came, only Kenny's arm squeezed harder at my shoulders. My eyes flew open and looked over to him. One of his eye was closed and the other open, staring at me while his hand clutched at his heart. That was when I saw a small metal tube had lunged itself into Kenny's chest. I stood there in horror, watching him attempt to pull it out. It did him no good, he just let out a loud groan and fell to his knees, bringing me down with him. His other hand clutched at my sweater, smearing it with blood. I felt the hot tears as they started to stream down my face. He stared at me before he was consumed into a coughing frenzy. He ended up coughing out blood onto me. I didn't care, though. My remaining frien- _best _friend, was dying and all I could do was sit there, cry, and watch. When Kenny was done, he had looked up to me, and smiled, blood dripping down his chin. A bloody hand moving my hair out of my face. I buried my face into his neck as I began to sob uncontrollably.

"Shh, d-don't cry, Kyle," he interrupted himself with a few more coughing tantrums. I hadn't realized my hearing was back until then. " Don't c-cry. Okay? I'm _only _dying."

Those words had stung, stung hard like a motherfucker.

"O-only? Kenny! You're fucking. . .fucking dying! Dude, please don't go," my cries were muffled into his neck.

"Kyle, I always die. I'll come back, it happens all the time," he whispered. Wow, I had thought, he must be insane. I must have given him an incredulous look because he continued. "Kyle, trust me, I wouldn't lie to you in this sit-situation. . .get out of here."

I had gave him another look and I scoffed. How could I leave him here? He was dying.

"K-Kyle, they're after to you man. Nghn. . ." he began to growl in pain, my eyes welling up again. "I-I don't ha-have much time. I love ya' man. Now, just fucking go, Kyle!"

I cried for a while and lied him down on Stan's steps. Hugging him tightly for the last time, kissing his cheek gently.

"I love you too, dude."

"Those bastards," I muttered as I sprinted away, not daring to look back. Jumping into Mr. Stotch's car and starting it up. I had probably driven down two blocks when a car hit me. The car skidded and jolted, I was pretty sure some of the wheels were lost and the rims were causing those sparks. I slammed down on the breaks hastily. I leaned into the wheel, breathing heavily before looking up to see the shady creatures flying towards me. I rapidly ran out of the car and started to sprint away. I wasn't able to get too far when I felt a grip on my ankle, and I came tumbling down. I tried to push myself up, only to be pushed down. I rolled over to see the shadows begin to swarm me. Their nails digging into my flesh, I cried out in pain. That's when I heard them. . .the chant from before. . .they were chanting. . .my name. My name was being said in their unworldly voice. I had begun to cry as I noticed they were covering me now. A scream was caught at the back of my throat as my world had turned dark. . .

* * *

A sudden pressure on my neck jolts me downwards, as if I was being pulled down by a leash. I shut my eyes tightly throwing my arms forward, I wasn't sure if I was going to freefall. My hands were the first thing to hit the floor, or whatever it was that I had fallen on. Pardon my inaccuracy, I'm blind for the time being.

Suddenly, a shock hits my body and heat increases. I can feel it spread, this unbearable pain. It's eating at me, and I'm scared. Cough begin to leave me, and I drop myself onto the non-existing floor. My body begins to shake uncontrollably, saliva dripping down my cheek. I'm scared, so fucking scared I think I might piss my pants soon. Nothing is making sense. I can't see shit, I don't know were I am or whether I'm alive or dead. It's all too overwhelming.

Aren't I dead? So why do I feel this pain?

"_Kyle Broflovski_," a horrid voice echoes through nothingness. I look around frantically, to meet pure darkness. "_You have been giving a great opportunity. A once in a lifetime chance. Something only __**I**__ can offer._"

"Wh- ugh. What-t?" I croak out. The pain is becoming stronger, I feel faint.

"_I need you to become a Host for the most important being; the demi-god which I cherish the most above all._"

"I- w-what? I ca-" I think I did lose it. I'm having a horrible, horrible nightmare. That voice has a proposition for me, while I'm withering in unbearable pain. Not only that, but I have no idea what he is proposing. That terrifying voice I hear is a figment of my imagination. . .maybe I'm in the bad side of Imaginationland?

"_If you agree, you'll gain a large amount of my powers, you'll never die, and everything will go back, before today, as if it never happened. Before the Shadow's attacked South Park_" I let my eyes widen, the pang to my heart was felt. "_You could see your friend Stan, he did die you know. So did the fat one. Oh and let's not forget our friend Kenny. Well, he is already back on Earth, since he always resurrects. . . It will all be the same, but at the same time, nothing will be the same. There are always consequences, Kyle._"

"Ungh, What a-are you talk-king about?" my voice shook. He said the same thing Kenny had; about not dying. I felt something shoot into my head, making it snap back. The first thing I felt was the pain subside, the memories coming afterwards. Every single one them. When the aliens killed Kenny, the time he was using those race-karts and it flipped over, scrapping the ground with Kenny's body. All those times Kenny had died as a kid and a teenager, they were all there. No words can describe how flabbergasted I am. How. . .how could I NOT remember my best friend's deaths? I'm horrible.

"_What do you say, little one?_"

I sit up, wipe the saliva off, and open my mouth, gibberish the only thing leaving. I knew what I wanted. His offer was hard to deny.

"_Do think about the consequences_."

Consequences? The lives of my friends are on the line. I couldn't care less about consequences. I took a few deep breaths before finding my voice, "I'll do it."

A loud, horrible, terrifying laugh filled my ears as fire emerged around me. A feathered pen and black book appeared in front of me, the book opening itself. The page was a contract in a language I am sure is Latin. I bit my lip, thinking it all over. I won't know about the consequences until something actually happens. . .could I risk that? I want to see Stan, Kenny, and fatass. I can't let the whole town die either. . .it was all my fault. I owe it to them. I took the pen and signed my name, Kyle Broflovski, the only thing that will truly be mine.

Everything went pitch black again. I was left alone, here, in what I loathe the most. The darkness started to suffocate me again, that is until I heard footsteps. I snapped my head back, squinting, trying to see anything. The anticipation grew inside. Maybe it was Stan? Somehow, I was able to make out the shadow of a body, through the dark. I started walking forward, towards it. We met halfway and stopped. My heart rate picked up drastically as I waited.

"Come on, Broflovski, let's go," a familiar voice commanded. The shadow turned on its heels and began to walk away. I quickly followed behind. Fire streaked across the floor, making out our path. I stopped walking and stiffened at the sight in front of me. His raven black hair stopped before his neck, a bit long; you could see a silver chain hanging from his neck. He had a black long-sleeve on and skinny black jeans. The young man stopped walking a few steps away from me. Turning to face me.

"D-Damien?" I gasped out.

* * *

A/N: And so the beginning comes to and end. This is my first Fanfiction to post up, ever. Be nice, R&R,yeah?

So I wrote this because my brother and I challenged ourselves to write a fanfic featuring the other's favorite pairing. So my brother's favorite pair is obviously Dyle, while mine is Tophelovski. So he has to write that one. It may take him a while because he's a lazy bastard. :)

Tell me if you like it, hate it, or don't care. :D

Thank you for your time.


	2. The Claiming

**It's third person now.**

* * *

". . ." There stood the son of Satan, the Anti-Christ, in all his Satanic glory. He held himself in confidence, broad shoulders pulled back, chin out, head up. Damien was a lot taller than Kyle, probably over six feet while Kyle was 5'7. He also had this aura to himself that said, better-than-thou, something eerie as well. It made Kyle shrink down and self-conscious. The years had done Damien well, he was quite handsome, if Kyle said so himself. Ugh, excuse Kyle's gay thoughts.

Awkward silence fell between them as they both stood, facing each other. Damien eyed Kyle, his eyes moving side to side, down, and up. He saw Damien take in a large breath, as if he was smelling something. While Kyle simply stared at the black voids that were considered his eyes.

"My father said he was getting me an accomplice but he never mentioned I'd be receiving a **useless** one," Damien stated while kicking a rock with his foot. Kyle didn't know how to reply to that, he did, however, feel his jaw drop as he gaped at Damien. _He did not just call me useless_. . . "You should really close your mouth, something might just find its way in there."

Not an even an hour and Kyle already wanted out on this deal. He couldn't remember Damien ever being this. . .this. . .an asshole! If he recalled, Damien wanted Stan and his approval as friends! Damien craved their friendship, even if it was short lived.

"Well, excuse me for being useless, fucking asshole."

"Watch what you say to me in my _own_ home, insect." Damien retorted, his face showing no anger.

"Fuck you," Kyle spat. Damien was suddenly in front of Kyle, his hands grasping the collar on Kyle's jacket. Damien lifted him up a bit so they were eye-to-eye.

"I will be so kind as to ignore your disrespect for now, since you do not understand how things work, yet. Let this be a _fucking _warning to you, Broflovski. I will not tolerate this in the future, so watch that pretty little mouth of yours." There was a flash of red that went through Damien's black eyes. It definitely made Kyle shit bricks. The thought that scared him was that he _knew_ Damien was being serious, this wasn't some sick joke. He knew Damien could rid of him if he wished. Definitely scary. Damien wasn't the same anymore, he changed, and definitely not for the better. Damien's threat hung in the air for a while, Kyle glaring at him all the while. Until Damien set him down and Kyle pushed his hands away. Kyle brushed past him and began to continue down the path.

"Whatever," he muttered low, though he knew Damien heard. It seemed Damien was satisfied by that answer as he walked behind him.

Sometime had past as they continued. Kyle had been feeling Damien's stare throughout the whole time, including now. It unnerved him, especially now that he knew Damien was psychotic. Kyle supposed that was what happened to people who lived in Hell. He was pretty damn sure that it wasn't all rainbows and unicorns down here. Then again, Damien _IS_ the son of Satan himself, that itself should be self-explanatory. Now that he thought about it, was he going to go to Hell? Now that he made a. . .contract, agreement? What _would _someone call this? Kyle wasn't so sure. It bothered him not knowing. He was one of those people who HAD to know if not, it would be nagging at him. The urge to stop and ask was overwhelming. Kyle did stop walking, but instead waited for Damien and fell into step with him.

* * *

"Uh again, tell me, where are we going?" Kyle asked him, unsure if he wanted to know.

". . .to mark you as my property."

". . ." A long moment of silence passed before Kyle narrowed his eyes and replied, "I'm just going to pretend you didn't say that."

They kept following the fire-lit path and even walked up a small hill, a simple door standing at the top. Damien violently opened the door revealing an almost empty room, the exception being a small kart containing tools for tattoo artists; for some reason, it also held one of those needles to draw out blood with a little vial. The other being those layout chairs and a simple stool next to it. A simple lamp, facing down toward the chair. Everything else was empty, even the walls were barren.

"What can I do for you, my Lord?" A sudden deep voice asked.

"Sanguis Exchange," Damien replied, gesturing with his head toward Kyle.

"Alright, if you would please take a seat, Lord," The man gestured toward the chair.

Damien all but glided toward the chair. Even the way he sat down seemed graceful, which baffled Kyle. Not to mention Kyle didn't know what to do with himself so he just by the doorway.

Kyle watched as the bigger man rolled Damien's sleeve up, a few inches above his elbow. He placed an armband around Damien's upper arm. He then readied the needle, and plunged it onto Damien's arm, not bothering with rubbing alcohol or locating the vein. Kyle heard the splash of Damien's blood violently seeping into the vial. He shifted his eyes onto Damien's, to which his surprise, were staring intently at him. Seriously, what was up with this guy? He was getting a blood withdrawal and staring at Kyle intensely. . .it was _very_ creepy, to say the least.

When finished, Kyle saw the man take a black and gray vial out. He then continued into mixing Damien's blood into the ink. A small hiss was released by the ink, a bit of smoke escaping out. Weird. Definitely weird. The man stirred the mixes a bit longer until it was more gooey than thick. Kyle noticed the dark shadows swirling in the both vials. Even in the black ink vial, he could see them. They danced as if knowing what was about to occur. Kyle saw Damien get off the chair at the corner of his eye. He was still profoundly mesmerized yet disturbed by the shadows.

"Take off your jacket and shirt, Broflovski." The command made Kyle a tad bit angry. He _loathed_ being bossed around! Wasn't it bad enough to have a psychotic control-freak of a mother? No, apparently not. . .Nonetheless, Kyle obeyed shrugging off his jacket, then pulling his shirt over his head.

Damien's eyes lingered Kyle's bare chest. It made Kyle feel _very_ uncomfortable. Not to mention self-conscious! Kyle had always been told he was much too skinny. Putting it in Stan's words; 'bordering healthy and anorexic.' Oh, but really, Kyle wasn't _that_ skinny!

. . .or was he?

Argh!

Kyle suppose there was no point in mulling over it. He was here and shirtless. Really, there was no point at being self-conscious at this particular moment in time.

"Where do you want it?" the man asked gruffly. Kyle looked over at the man. He was quite big.

"On his chest, left breast. Right over his heart."

At this point, Kyle was sweating. He knew it was going to hurt. He remembered going with Stan, Kenny, and Craig to watch Clyde get a tattoo. He knew Clyde was a crybaby but it _looked _painful. . .really painful.

"Uh. . .I don't think getting a tattoo is such a great idea,"

"Why?" Damien asked, eyebrow quirked at Kyle's statement.

"I'm diabetic." That was by far the lamest excuse Kyle had ever used. EVER.

"I am positive that does not affect anything, but do not worry. I will not let you die, yet," Came the uncaring reply.

_Son of bitch. . ._

"Uh. . .m-my mom will kick my ass if she sees it!" Cross that earlier statement. Now _this_ was definitely the worst excuse.

"She will not see it," Damien glanced at his nails, as if they were of outmost importance. "Any more excuses? Or will you shut your whiny trap, and let us begin?"

"Shit. A-Alright!"

Kyle made his way toward the chair, brushing past Damien who stood by it. He sat down, letting his eyes stare at the light from above, his heart dropping to his stomach. He was nervous as hell.

He heard the buzz of the machine, then felt it. The first penetration he felt on his skin gave him minimal to no pain. It wasn't until the others that followed, did he really begin to hurt, he jerked a bit, but quickly stilled himself. It felt as if small shards of glass were being embed into his skin. Kyle gripped at the elbow rest as the man worked on his chest. The pain becoming greater. Then he remembered, weren't they suppose to outline something out before going straight to the inking? Shit! What if the guy messed up? Then he'll end up with something retarded! Kyle wanted to ask, but honestly, he was afraid to. Not to mention it was hard enough with the pain, and Damien's unfaltering gaze on him.

Slowly, Kyle let his eyes slide shut. He briefly saw colorful dots on his closed eyelids, due to staring at the lamp. He tried to think of something, anything really, just to take his mind off the pain. He wondered what was going on out on Earth, but the thought didn't stay long. It was chased off by his body's protests. For the remaining period of time, Kyle unsuccessfully tried to get his mind to work, but every time his thoughts were pushed out. So he grit and bore it. That was all he could do for himself. The time he spent sitting there felt like an eternity. His patience wore thin and he became agitated. How _did_ he end up here again?

"Finished, my Lord," The big man's voice brought Kyle back from his thoughts. "Please,

take a look."

At this, Kyle scowled. He knew that was meant for Damien and not him. It wasn't like it was _Kyle's skin_, that had the permanent scar. That's right, he called it a scar. That's what it truly was. It was something Kyle never perceived to ever be in his life. Definitely not be **permanently** in his life.

A shadow loomed over Kyle, somewhat blocking the blinding light. He felt cold fingers touch his scarred chest, and flinched at the blooming pain. He looked up at Damien, unsure of how to react or what to say.

"It is fine," Damien's voice rang throughout the room. He then turned his gaze back to Kyle and whispered "Take a look, Broflovski."

Kyle wasn't sure why, but he knew he didn't want to see it. He didn't want to see. He grabbed his shirt off the floor then his jacket. So that was what willed him to reply, "I'd rather not."

"Quit your tantrums and look. At. It." Damien's tone came out harsh.

Kyle scoffed, the slowly dropped his head down until he could see the mocking tattoo. He wasn't surprised at how Satanic it seemed. It was a fairly sized Celtic pentagram. Colored in different shade of gray. In between the star, was what it seemed a closed eye. Quite eerie. He pondered on that for a bit. If it weren't for the circumstances, Kyle was sure he would have liked the tattoo. It just gave this pleasant yet displeasing feeling. Like, it was bi-polar and unexplainable. Kyle tightly clutched the clothes in his hands.

He hated this. He shouldn't feel _anything_ good from this experience. None at all.

"Well, I do hope that was unenjoyable for you as it was for me," Kyle noticed Damien's voice sound exasperated, then scoffed at his word. "I grow very tired of your presence. There is no need for you until a few more days, Thank father."

"What?" Kyle was a bit confused at Damien's vague words, but he didn't forget to glare at him. Damien ignored Kyle's inquiry as he strode toward him. Damien studied Kyle's expression, jaw set and emerald eyes glowing with anger.

Two freezing cold fingertips were lightly placed against his forehead.

"I will see you in a few days, Broflovski. I hope for your and my sake, you not _fuck_ this up." Damien whispered rapidly, his breath hitting Kyle's face.

"Wait, I'm con-" Kyle didn't finish his sentence. He was dragged away by the rapidly approaching darkness. It enveloped him. Although, this time. . .it didn't feel bad. It didn't feel like the darkness was selfishly clutching him. It felt more like an. . .embrace. A part of Kyle, actually accepted the embrace.

Although, he really shouldn't have.

* * *

**A/N:** VERY short. It is half of the Prologue's length. -_- Sorry,I just wanted it out because it's been months since the update. -.- I formally apologize!

It was rushed too, so I am sorry for that as well! I bet there are millions of errors but I am quite tired at the moment. I'll fix this laterrrrr. Lazyness FTW!

Thanks for reading this,you guys! Please R&R! Reviews help boost my almost non-existing confidence!


	3. Orange Affair

**Yo. . .I'm soooo lazy you gaizzzzzz.**  
**Seriously, doesn't help that this chapter is crap. Not to mention boring, so beware.**  
**Anyway, I PLAN on making A LOT of changes to these three chapters, so yeah.**

* * *

Waking up drenched in sweat is probably the most disgusting way to wake up. It didn't help at all when Kyle had the worst dream ever. Scratch that, worst nightmare, ever. He must have ate something bad because that was by far the most violent nightmare he has ever had. It seemed so real, too. Probably a lucid dream, the most lucid he'd have. Enough pondering, though, Kyle needed a shower. NOW. So that's what he did, he got out of bed grabbed some clothes and his towel then jumped in the shower. The warm water sending shivers down Kyle's back, it felt way too good. Kyle made sure he scrubbed himself thoroughly, with waking up sweaty and all, he needed to feel clean again. Once he was done, he felt a lot better. For some reason he felt extremely euphoric, which was rather weird. He felt like it was going to be a bad day earlier, but now, everything seemed. . .brighter. Maybe that wasn't the right word, but Kyle seriously didn't know what word would be correct for the way he was feeling. Everything was brilliant. The last weeks had been terrible, but today, felt like a good omen.

Once, Kyle finished changing, he went onto his daily ritual of brushing his teeth. That's when he noticed that he hadn't thrown up yet. Ah, that came out wrong. Point is, he didn't have the urge that would unfaltering had hit him for the last month. The fact itself added to Kyle's content. Walking out of the bathroom, Kyle bumped into a seemingly cranky Ike. Ike glanced at his beaming older brother, grunted, then shut himself inside the bathroom. A small smile escaping Kyle, his brother was adorable in the mornings. Wait, what time was it? Better yet, what day? Honestly, Kyle didn't know. He walked to his dresser and picked up his phone, which read Sunday 6:34 a.m. Kyle was a bit lost, it didn't feel like a Sunday, either way, it was yet another boost of the happy meter! He decided to text Stan and see if he was awake. A few minutes passed and no text from Stan, that was okay though, Kyle decided to go online to entertain himself. After browsing the interweb and quickly becoming bored he decided to play some good old World of Warcraft. Oh yeah, he loved this game, even more with the Cataclysm expansion! Kyle reached level 85 on his human mage almost right after installing the pack, which he had pre-ordered. Call him a nerd or geek, he didn't care, besides, everyone in town played WoW. . . for some reason.

Time flew while he messed with some noobs on WoW when he felt his phone vibrate, which made him jump slightly. He picked it up and smiled when he saw Stan's text. Stan was flabbergasted that Kyle had woken up so goddamn early on a Saturday. Kyle sent a quick reply if he was awake enough to hang out, to which Stan was hesitant but eventually agreed. Appareantly, 12 o'clock was much too early. One last text from Stan saying to go over his place and Kyle was turning off his computer. Kyle went downstairs and was surprised his mom wasn't there, or that she never called them down for breakfast. However, he found his dad watching the news and drinking coffee.

"Hey, dad, is it okay if I go to Stan's?" Kyle asked while already heading to the door, he knew he would say yes.

"Sure, but you better call your mother later on, alright?" Gerald glanced over at his son just as he opened the door.

"Okay, sure thing!" 

* * *

Stan and Kyle had been playing video games for approximately 4 hours before Cartman called to inform them that they were to come over because he had something "fucking awesome" to show them.

"Cartman, no! You always say your going to show us something awesome but it's always something retarded dude!" Stan exclaimed at his cell phone.

"No, no! You guys you GOTTA come over! It's totally killer!" Cartman yelled excitedly through the other line, making Stan pinch his brow.

"We'll see you later, dude," Stan breathe out, and threw himself on his couch, " Dude, I swear, Cartman is never going to grow up."

"I know, dude. He's always going to be like that," Kyle answered absentmindedly, he was in the middle of interrogating a guy on L.A. Noire. They were soon bored with the game and decided just to hang out in Stan's room. The moments from there on where of Wendy constantly calling Stan, for what? Only God knows because she seemed to call every five minutes. While that went on Christophe was texting Kyle, he needed Kyle to hack into the Park County's Library and get blueprints to some guys house. Kyle promised to do it once he was home, which lead to miscellaneous talk. It was nice just chilling with Stan, Kyle felt like it had been forever since they did that.

"Where's Kenny?" Kyle asked shooting a quick glance at Stan then back to his phone.

"Wha-Who's Kenny?" confusing mixed in with amusement to what his girlfriend had said. Kyle was shocked for a bit but then he recalled his nightmare. That's right, Kenny was just some guy from his dream. Kyle could have sworn Kenny was real, darn lucid dream. He didn't see the point in replying to Stan, he was occupied.

"Ah, shit." Kyle suddenly burst out.

"What?" Stan looked over at Kyle, Wendy had him on hold.

"I forgot to call my mom. . .I'm surprised she hasn't called, it's gonna be six!"

"Just call her no-" interrupting himself, Stan drew all his attention to his girlfriend, "Oh, Hey Wendy, no, no that's okay. Yeah."

Kyle rolled over on Stan's bed and glanced at him. He saw Stan roll his eyes at something Wendy said, for some reason it made it him smile.

"I'm just gonna head home, I'll see you later Stan," he then stood up and shrugged his jacket on.

"Okay, see you later dude- Huh? No, I was just saying. . ." Stan's voice became distant as he led himself out. Once the sun's fading light hit him, he noticed it was getting dark. The feeling of déjàvu was strong as another feeling of being watched overwhelmed him. He quickened his pace while franticly looking around. He released a sigh of relief when he reached his house. He walked into the living, spotting Ike on the couch watching McNeal Lair Report. Strange, he only watched that at 10.

"Hey Ike," he sighed out, seating himself next to Ike.

"Baby Kicker," Ike greeted, a mischievous grin appearing.

"Pssh, get over it, kid," Kyle retorted, letting a small smile escape.

"Shush! McNeal is talking!"

"Oh god, I don't know how you can watch this crap. It's so fucking boring!"

"SHHH, Kyle," Ike replied while slapping Kyle on the arm. Kyle pouted slightly but then decide to head upstairs, he was becoming uneasy. Arriving at his room, Kyle remembered what he promised Christophe. So he did what he was best at, hacked into the Library and downloaded the dude's blueprints onto a flash drive. It took him less than three minutes, such an easy task. Although he had to make some marks on the original print seeing as there had been a few changes to the building. It was still pretty early so Kyle thought he should give Christophe the prints now. Kyle sent him a text, saying he'll drop it off, but Christophe refused and told him he'd pick it up. Kyle was quietly thankful, his earlier euphoria had vanished as soon as he stepped out of Stan's place. While he waited, Kyle turned on some music, he still felt like he was being watched. To say he was getting creeped out was an understatement. He even jolted when his window burst open as Christophe stepped in. That's when there was a strange tingling sensation at Kyle's chest. For some reason, Kyle's vision tinted and nothing was bright like earlier anymore.

"Aw, don't step on my bed with your dirty boots!" Kyle exclaimed.

"Ze fuck. Get over eet, mademoiselle," came Christophe's playful reply.

"Fuck you, here," he threw the stick at Christophe, "give it back to me when you're done with it, alright?"

"Oui, oui, I kno' that. Before I forget, Gregory sends 'is greetings," he began to rummage through his pocket and pulled out a few bills, "'ere."

Christophe handed the bills to Kyle whom stared at them with confusion.

"what's this?" he asked the Frenchman.

"Payment for zee favor," he glanced over the redhead just as Kyle began to shove the bills back into Christophe's hands.

"Dude, no. What are friends for?" Kyle walked over to his computer because it became awkward, for him at least. Christophe eyed the kid but then shrugged.

"Merci, mon ami," he dragged the word and began to descend down the window when he poked his head through the window. "Kyle. Your 'ouse for some reason, eet is making me feel 'ery uneasy."

Kyle grimaced but replied, "I'm glad I'm not the only one. Later, Chris."

"Au revoir." 

* * *

Kyle woke up to the tingling on his chest. His still half asleep brain wondered if he was having a stroke, but quickly pushed the ludicrous idea out. He sat up and placed his hand on his bare skin were his heart was located. Kyle didn't know why but it was soothing in a manner that felt rather pleasant. He meekly looked around his room and noticed it was still dark. Kyle looked over at his alarm clock and noticed it was 3 a.m.

_The Witching Hour._

He didn't know why the thought had popped up, but it did. And suddenly, he wasn't as comfortable as he had been a couple of seconds ago.

Kyle plopped himself on his bed, and wished his sheets were cool, because for some reason, his skin felt a bit warm. It didn't matter, he was falling asleep again. His eyes were almost closed when he felt and saw a shadow of a young man stand over him. His mind didn't register it and fell in a deep slumber.

Kyle awoke a few hours after that. He didn't even think about his actions as he immediately stood up and got ready for school. He was looking for his diabetic meter on his dresser when he found an orange sheet of paper. His eyebrows furrowed as he picked it up. Slowly he read it to himself:

_"He's a God, a Demon. He sees nothing, yet he sees everything. Keep your guard up. Benevolence isn't a trait he has._  
_ - K M "_

The note was written in sloppy black ink, the writing seemed familiar. But Kyle couldn't place where he had seen it. To Kyle, the note didn't make much sense. It was vague and unorganized. He stared at it for a while. Re-reading it a few more times before deciding to shove it inside his pocket and head out to school.

Kyle dropped Ike off and started off to his own school. It seemed rather too early to be there, so he decided to take a detour. He was strolling down the street when there was tingling at his chest then suddenly a black fog-like shadow was streaming out of chest. It landed neatly on the concrete in front of him. Taking shape of man, and revealing to be Damien. That's when Kyle's mind blanked out. He briefly hoped the previous night's dream had actually been a dream, however he knew it hadn't been. Now he knew what that note had been talking about. Damien. He wasn't stupid, he drew the dots together.

The sight of Damien's sneering face made matters worse. Kyle almost immediately sagged his shoulders and dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Good, you learn quickly." Damien gave a self satisfying nod, " Always be submissive when around your betters."

At that Kyle scoffed. But his stance didn't change, inside Kyle was trying so hard to stare Damien down, but something was preventing him. It irked him down to the bone.

"What do you want?" Kyle's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Father told me I should be checking up on you. Though I hoped I would not have to see you for at the least a few more days. That does not matter. Look, Father is. . .encouraging that I attend your stupid school. I do not have to go every day, but enough to 'acquaint' myself with human behavior." The word human had been spat out with venom, " After everything is arranged, we start our work as soon as possible."

Kyle was a bit taken aback. He hadn't heard Damien talk that much. Nonetheless, Kyle nodded. He was still starring at the floor, so it looked rather strange, as if he had nodded to the floor. Damien was greatly bothered by this, it outright pissed him off.

"**Look at me, insect.**" Damien barked out. Kyle jerked away, while at the same time looking up. Damien eye's studied Kyle's face for a few seconds before saying, " When I talk to you, you look at me. Got it?"

Kyle breathed out a weak, "okay," and followed behind Damien when he began to gracefully stride down the street.

* * *

**A/N: Yup, I'm terrible.**  
**Like stated at the top, I plan on improving this shitty story soon.**  
**No promises for a rapid update, though. I don't like breaking promises.**  
**Hopefully, I'll stop writing crappy and start giving you guys something worth the time.**  
**R&R? Meh, you don't have to but I'll like you if yah do. . .on second thought, yeah, you HAVE to.**


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